


I'll Be Okay

by Geisterschreiber



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Is this even any good?, Minor Injuries, Siblings, Sleep Deprivation, Warning: very OOC, parental arguments, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geisterschreiber/pseuds/Geisterschreiber
Summary: Ezra trusted Kanan. He knew he would never hurt him.Set sometime between "Blood Sisters" and "Stealth Strike"
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	I'll Be Okay

The sound of lightsabers moving through the air echoed in the large hanger. As much as Ezra liked a good training session with Kanan, especially when it involved lightsabers, he couldn’t help feeling that Kanan was going unnecessarily hard today and he had an idea why.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rex perched on the top of the Ghost watching the session. Ezra didn’t mind the old clone most of the time, but he knew his presence could only spell trouble for the so far quiet day. For now though, he seemed to be talking on his com. It still didn’t stop Kanan from thinking that he had to be the best, sadly.

He focused back into the session just in time to block Kanan’s attack. His arms shook as he held Kanan’s blade inches from his face. Mustering his strength, he pushed Kanan back, breathing heavily and steadying himself for the next attack. It felt like they had been at this for hours, which probably was not too far off.

His exhaustion was nothing new though. He had been exhausted before he had even activated his saber this morning.

Kanan jabbed his saber in yet another attack. Ezra blocked, a smidge too sluggishly, swaying from the force of it. He planted his foot behind himself in just enough time to keep from falling over. He shook the cobwebs from his mind, forcing his mind to stay with the duel. It was fruitless though as Kanan was able to push him back.

“You’ll never gain the upper hand in a fight if you aren’t willing to go on the offensive.”

Rex’s sudden appearance always meant another fight was imminent. It meant that he was going to get a much needed break, but he still was not happy to listen to the two argue about the same old things.

He tried to hide his shakiness and blinked as Kanan stepped back with an irritated expression. With a few pants, Ezra deactivated his lightsaber and bent over with palms braced against his knees.

As Ezra could predict, Kanan turned to face Rex. Suddenly a sharp, brilliant pain erupted in his left upper arm. He let out a small yelp of pain, clutching the site and dropping his saber. He lifted his hand as touching it made it hurt worse and inspected it. Across his arm was a long and deep charred wound. Kanan’s lightsaber deactivated moments later.

Cradling his injured arm with the other, Ezra looked up to see that the two older men were not fazed in the least. Instead they were shouting at each other like they always were.

“Ezra needs to…”

“... more training is…”

“If you weren’t so…”

“Are you saying…”

“... back in the old days…”

Ezra turned away, protectively hunched over with his arms pressed to his chest. It was always the same. He really couldn’t see the point in it. His arm throbbed in his tight grip.

Perhaps he could go treat his wound and be back before they finished.

Knowing that they would continue to fight, he began to walk, too tired to fully run. Reverting back to what he learned from his time on Lothal after losing his parents, he made himself small as if not to attract attention to himself as he slipped past the two, who continued to shout and get into each other’s faces. He knew he didn’t need to; they would keep fighting until they were done and then they would act as though nothing had happened. But old habits die hard.

Their yelling faded as he entered the ship. He looked up from the floor his feet dragged across. The cargo bay in front of him tilted and swayed, and he collapsed against a crate, letting his arms drop to the side. He took a few deep breaths, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his good arm around them. His eyes felt heavy and hot, and he dropped his head, pressing them into the hard bone. He would not cry, not even in secret.

A few minutes pass, and he does not feel any better. He can still hear the words of Kanan and Rex’s argument passing through his mind. He tries to push Kanan’s current feelings out of his mind. He doesn’t want to be angry anymore. He wants it to stop.

“Ezra?” Sabine’s voice cuts through his fog, and he hears two sets of footsteps halt in front of him. “What’s going on? Why are you not at training?”

He cannot look at her, because all the barriers he’s been holding up for the past month are crashing down around him. The tears begin to fall, soaking his pant legs, and he intakes deep, gasping breaths. His shaking starts back up again, and he cannot believe that he is breaking down like this, in front of Sabine of all people.

Distantly he hears Sabine asking him what’s wrong and if he’s alright. There are two presences crouching down in front of him. A hand lightly rests on his shoulder, and he finally finds his voice.

“Please, Sabine. Don’t tell them where I am.”

It comes out cracked and pitiful, even to him. He lifts his head just enough to bring his right hand up to furiously scrub away at the tears. They allow him time to calm himself down, to which he will forever be grateful for.

When he has himself mostly under control, it is Zeb’s voice that he hears next.

“What happened to yer arm, kid?”

He lifts his gaze to look between Sabine and Zeb’s blurred, concerned glances. He passingly wonders if it's because of his recent exhaustion or from his crying. But they don’t need to know that. They don’t need to know about his problems; they have their own. Besides, he’s already inconvenienced them enough today. His voice feels small as he talks.

“Nothing, it isn’t important.”

He immediately regrets his choice of words. Of course, now they’d know something’s up. He cannot believe that he’s such an idiot. Sabine gives him a look.

“Yeah, and I’m Emperor Palpatine. Seriously, what happened?”

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and he shrunk back just a little.

“Did Kanan do that to you?”

He averted his eyes. “No, well yes. Kind of. It was an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

Her eyes softened slightly, but she was still looking at him with an accusatory glance. They were both getting rather close, and there was no more room to back up.

“Look, it was my fault really, don’t worry about it.”

“Ezra…” Sabine warned.

He let out a huff, and with it came the story of what happened. When he was done, he rested his chin on his knees. Sabine had a look of anger on her face and Zeb’s fist was clenched.

“And he didn’t even care that he could’ve cut your arm off with that stunt?” Zeb growled. “Or worse?”

Ezra couldn’t look at them. Instead, he picked at a loose thread on his pant leg.

“Too busy arguing.”

Sabine looked furious at this point. “Too busy arguing for either of them to notice that you were injured? Do you know how dangerous that is? They could have seriously injured you, and they didn’t stop to make sure you were alright? To at the very least apologize and treat the wound?”

“Like I told you, it was my fault.”

“Tell me, Ezra Bridger, how Kanan being oblivious to his surroundings is your fault.”

“Because they were fighting because of me. Again. I wasn’t good enough, so Rex came to offer advice. Kanan got annoyed, and they got into a fight. In fact that is how most of their arguments start. If I wasn’t such an ….”

Ezra knew he was rambling at this point, but it was to be expected. This was the first time he ever truly told anyone about his insecurities surrounding Kanan and Rex’s strained relationship. In some ways, it felt good to throw it out of his mind. For the most part though, it made him nervous and vulnerable; an emotion he usually steered very far from. Being vulnerable showed weakness.

He couldn’t look at them as Sabine’s hand gently grabbed his chin, guiding his head up from its downcast position and preventing him from trying to hide.

“Ezra, look at me.”

When he didn’t bring his eyes level with hers, she gripped his chin with more force.

“Look at me!”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. Amongst the anger was a twinge of softness, of concern. Sabine’s eyes had always entranced him, but right now he found that he could not look away, despite this being the one time he did not want to be facing them.

“When Kanan and Rex fight like that, it is not your fault. It never has been, and it never will be. They are the ones who choose not to compromise with each other, and I am sorry that you have to get dragged into it. But I do not want you to talk like that about yourself again and you are not to blame for their behavior. You hear me?”

He would have nodded if he could. Offhandedly, he wondered if her grip would bruise. So instead, he mumbled out a quiet “yes m’am”.

The next thing he knew he was being pulled into a tight hug. Her armor dug painfully into his skin, but he found that he didn’t mind. The smell of old paint and blaster fire engulfed him, and he hugged her back with his good arm, tucking his head in her shoulder. It didn’t last long though; Ezra knew Sabine wasn’t a very touchy person to begin with. But it still left him feeling cold when she pulled back.

He looked at the mandalorian girl as she re-adjusted herself. His gaze shifted to the lasat who was giving him a pensive look.

“When was the last time you’ve slept?”

Whatever he was expecting Zeb to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“Why do you ask?”

“Kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you have eyebags the size of the outer rim. So I ask you again, how much sleep have you been getting?”

“I slept last night,” he said, making himself small again. He appreciated that they cared, but Ezra never liked people prodding. He without thinking added a quiet, “only two hours but I slept.”

Sabine looked indignant. “Ezra! That’s not sustainable!”

“Well, when am I supposed to sleep? Certainly not during the four hours of jedi training, two hours of blaster training, endless chores, and daily missions. Y’all would kill me.”

“But you’re killing yourself by not sleeping!”

He banged his head back into the wall, running his fingers through it. He took a deep breath and began to stand up, using the crate as support.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I think I should get back to training. Kanan will be ticked if I’m not there when they stop fighting.”

He pushed through the two and began to walk out into the hanger again, when a hand grabbed his collar, halting his mission. He would’ve fallen over from the force of it had Zeb not maintained the hold. He turned around ready to argue, but stopped when he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness hit him. Blinking his eyes, he fought at the blackness in his peripheral vision.

“Screw Kanan. You are in no shape to be training. We’re going to fix up your arm and then you’re going straight to bed.”

On an average day, Ezra would have shot right back at Zeb, but he was at this point dead on his feet. Sitting down for so long must have snapped something inside of him and the strength he had been building up in his body through training recently wasn’t doing him any good. He stumbled and blacked out for a second.

The next thing he knew he was resting in someone's arms. He felt dazed as he tried to puzzle together what had happened. Right, Zeb and Sabine. Zeb must be holding him.  
The deep vibrations of the broad chest he was pressed against confirmed the identity as he talked. Zeb was saying something to Sabine, but he didn’t care to follow. Instead, he closed his eyes again, willing away a headache.

Zeb began walking, the back and forth motion lulling him to sleep. He fought it, embarrassed that he was practically being treated like a baby, but it was tempting. Zeb was warm and soft, and he didn’t really want to go back to training anyways. He settled on allowing himself to doze, not quite awake, but certainly not asleep.

He let the force and the beings around him envelop him. They protected him from and starved off the hurt and loneliness that had returned to him lately. He felt the tears return from before but for a different reason. They slid down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them for he loved his family. No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little something that popped into my head while I was drudging through work that became this whole big thing. This is by no means Kanan or Rex bashing; in fact I like both characters very much. I just did not really approve much of their early season two behavior towards each other. And my angsty heart just couldn't pass up the opportunity to make myself sad.
> 
> For those of you who may be wondering, I am not planning on giving up on "Hemorrhage". There's no excuse for the length of time that I have not uploaded anything. You all seem to find it interesting. I in turn have fallen out of the Transformers: Rescue Bots fandom, and into this one. But that it still no excuse. I despise it when an author ghosts a fic, and it seems that I have become the very thing I swore to destroy. I apologize. I will try to finish it's final chapter and upload it as soon as possible.


End file.
